


Hidden Letters

by Tamuril



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, POV Sirius Black, Regulus Black Deserves Better, Severus Snape Has a Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:21:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21867415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamuril/pseuds/Tamuril
Summary: Sirius returns to Grimmauld Place after his escape.  In an effort to learn about the brother he barely knew, he discovers a secret correspondence.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Severus Snape
Comments: 37
Kudos: 145





	1. Prologue: Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure yet how far I'll be able to take this idea, but figured I'd start and see where it leads. Let me know what you guys think, but I wanted to write before the idea just disappeared. Additional chapter additions will probably be sporadic due to work and other stories/poems I'm currently working on. Ideas and comments are greatly appreciated. Happy holidays and enjoy!

He used to love mirrors, of seeing his own beautiful reflection gazing back at him in the season of youth's perfection. Yet, it could hardly be borne now and the habit avoided, lest tears should fall, mourning the passage of its spring. It was in the height of his beauty that he had lost everything that mattered to him, so it seemed fitting that anguish and graceless age should replace it. One of the first things that Sirius Black did when he returned to Grimmauld Place, was break one of the ancient mirrors that hung in the upstairs hallway. Instead of using magic, he used his fists, until the glass began to break and his fist came back bloodied, living him exhausted, screaming in rage and frustration. When he woke up in his own bed, the wizard was shocked, yet unable to recall whether he had passed out or how he got to his room. If Kreacher moved him, it was probably done with his customary disdain. But he didn't dwell on the thought too long. In the end it didn't really matter--he had always felt like an unwelcome guest in his childhood home.

When he saw that mirror the following morning, the glass shattered, with blood stains on many of the fragments, a vindictive smile graced his lips. His mother loved that ornate mirror, since it was an old family heirloom, so he took pleasure in destroying a treasure of hers. After all, their family's poisonous philosophy ending destroying what remained of the Noble House of Black, parting him irrevocably from a brother he didn't realize that he missed. But when he saw his own broken reflection in it as he approached, he started to weep, wanting to have his friends back, of those few moments with his younger brother, of visiting baby Harry, of the life that was stolen from him. There was no going back to those days when he was living a relatively carefree life, but when he saw Harry, who seemed the very reincarnation of James, and Remus, more melancholy than he had been as schoolboys, he knew, it was too late. 

Then there was Snape, which intrigued him, though the animosity only seemed to intensify. Sirius was glad for his presence in a way, because it made him feel alive in a way that nothing else had; it always did. The dementors may have taken his happiest memories, but they couldn't take his vitriolic hate. Yet, he couldn't help but notice, even while as Padfoot, how he had protected Harry, Ron, and Hermione. He remembered the man's fear, briefly, when Remus in werewolf form had approached them. It was curious to him that the unpleasant man would even bother, since it was clear that he had disliked them. It troubled him the most that he was even there in the first place, why Dumbledore would employ the dungeon bat to begin with. He had to know, needed to know, what exactly was going on, why the man was even there and how he convinced one of the most powerful wizards in the world to--what? Trust him? 

Sirius showered at least twice a day, hoping that maybe the grime that had been gathering upon him like dust in an undisturbed room would fall away, but it was not to be. Though his body, which had nearly been broken by his overlong imprisonment, was physically clean, it always felt that there was that one spot that he couldn't quite reach. He nearly broke down in the shower when he realized that the spot he couldn't reach was in his own mind, blaming himself for what he had unwittingly done and more besides. Dressing the part of his noble family's heir did little to ease his mind; it felt more like an itchy, ill-fitting suit. He still possessed shadows of his former beauty, but the eyes had less life in them when he took a hard look at himself. Sirius, the once bold, arrogant youth, could hardly handle the emptiness that he saw in his own eyes. He felt like a broken statue from a previous age, decaying and forgotten.

When Dumbledore came to him and asked if Grimmauld Place could be used as his headquarters, he jumped at the chance. Having Harry joyfully run into his arms was that ray of light that could brake through the coldness in his heart. He promised himself that though he had failed James, he would do all he could to protect his best friend's son. The guilt would still eat at him and he wanted the young man's forgiveness for failing his parents. Harry would grant him that, without even his godfather asking, but Sirius couldn't quite bring himself to ask the boy. Remus was still as he remembered, still a bit of a shabby dresser, with a bit more sadness in his eyes. His werewolf friend may have been free theoretically, but he lost as much as he had that night when Voldemort murdered the Potters. His friend was as much a ghost as he had turned out to be.

What he didn't expect in opening his home as Order headquarters was that Snape would occasionally be there, too, though he couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not. The dark wizard made his blood boil and Sirius enjoyed the exchange of barbs between himself and his target. Most of the time, Snape would be silent during meetings, but on a few rare occasions, when Dumbledore wasn't able to step in, the dark wizard would explode in rage, which made Sirius smile in triumph. While the spy didn't speak much and almost always to Dumbledore when he did, made the outburst even more enjoyable, since it eroded that façade of imperturbability that Snape wore. It made him human. Everyone, including Snape, may have thought it childish, but for Black, it meant that he still had some degree of sanity. Not that he trusted the man, but at least being a battering ram to an, at present, impenetrable fortress was at least something to take his rage against when he didn't want to fight against himself.


	2. Nightmares in the Doorway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius begins to have recurring dreams about Regulus, while also struggling with being out of Azkaban. A much needed conversation with Remus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a brief mention of self-harm, which I feel should be mentioned. There are also heavy references to depression, though I don't explicitly state that. Let me know what you guys think, as always. This may be a bit of a slow-moving, slow-burn of a story. Apologies for any continuity issues in the chapter. I was a bit tired, but will correct them when I'm slightly more awake. Otherwise, enjoy.

It was not a mystery how Sirius Black ended up staring at Regulus's bedroom door in the middle of the night. It was quite simple, really. He had a dream that his little brother was dying and was cradling Regulus's head as he expired. There was a scream and he couldn't quite make out what the source of it was. Not that it mattered, since in the end, he was the sole heir of an aching loneliness. At the conclusion of the dream, he would make his way to Regulus's room, but would unable to even touch the door. It was as if he feared that some monster lay on the other side of it and touching that door would somehow cause ruination and further despair. He was not sure when his nightmares of James and Lily were replaced by that of his brother, but he felt certain that it was the moment that he had lain his head to rest in his old, but hated bedroom.

He hardly needed Azkaban to steal his happiness as it was snuffed the night that he lost all his friends in once cruel swing of the scythe. From that moment on, prior to his apprehension, his memories had the sheen of blood upon them. The dementors just added their twist by casting into a seemingly bottomless well of despair and not allowing any part of himself to escape. He wasn't even afforded the grim pleasure of having Snape suffer with him; that alone would've made his imprisonment at least somewhat worthwhile. But in his new world, only nightmares came true and dreams were left to whither and die. When he returned to his hated childhood home, he realized that he hadn't really escaped, the prison was just portable and eventually found him. 

His initially excitement was short-lived as he noticed how most of the Order members regarded him. Sirius understood then, that many of them still held him responsible for the deaths of the Potters. It was as if they expected him to cast an Unforgivable upon them and he could see exactly where the eggshells were placed as they traipsed about Grimmauld Place. Even Remus, whose eyes betrayed the myriad of his own emotions, was nervous when he was in Sirius's company. He had no idea what upset him more, that Remus felt doubt or that he had inspired such feelings in the first place. The notable exceptions to this were Harry, who had his mother's inclination to forgiveness and Snape, who nursed his hatred to the point of becoming second nature. It was mildly amusing to have such a reaction based on just his presence, since it was a poor pantomime of what his youth had been like. Sirius was used to having the attention by sheer force of his looks and family name, not because he was falsely accused of deceit and murder, which was his life now. He had contemplated suicide after a few weeks, when he truly perceived how empty and alone he felt. But that was prior to Snape's first visit had stirred up within Sirius that desire to live. It was then that he realized that spite could be just as powerful a driving force as any tool in his vast arsenal.

When his mind didn't wander to the questions he had regarding Snape, they were focused on his brother. Every night became a ritual, regardless of when he went to bed or who was present, his behavior was similar. Sirius began to have a sort of internal bet of what would happen first: madness or his opening of the door. On this particular night, however, Remus was staying for a short time. The conversation between the friends was still guarded and uncomfortable, so they both subconsciously decided to turn in early. And as Sirius stood staring at the Regulus's bedroom door, pretending that he didn't notice Remus's approach, the silence was as heavy as the words that had remained in their mouths. The Animagus couldn't bear the look of pity in those amber eyes and kept his eyes trained on the door, though he flinched when Remus laid on his shoulder.

"Sirius?" Remus asked, clearly concerned. "What are you doing?"

"I don't know anymore," he sighed.

"Come on. Let's-"

Sirius suddenly exploded, "Why can't you just say what you have to say to me? You keep hiding and holding back when I'm right here. Why?"

"Because I had no idea how to tell you that I was sorry," Remus answered, softly and honestly. "I believed that you had betrayed them, Pads. I should've known that you would never betray your friends. I felt ashamed that I thought so and was worried that you didn't want to be friends."

"Moony," Sirius looked at Remus. "I still blame myself for what happened to them. It was my idea that Peter be the secret keeper."

"How could you have known?"

"He was never as strong as us, Remus. You know that. I just thought that no one would think to seek him out."

"But Harry is alive and--"

"He shouldn't have to fight, Moony. it's not fair."

"I wish he didn't have to either, but we can do everything we can to be there. Harry's an honorary marauder, after all."

Sirius chuckled at that, though he was still very much in a melancholy frame of mind. Remus then asked, "Sirius, what do you want?"

"To have Harry defeat Voldy, see Snape go to Azkaban, and to find out what happened to Regulus."

"You don't want to be happy?"

"All my memories are tinged with poison. I doubt the future will be any better."

"You can still try to be happy, you know. Harry and I will be there for you, Sirius. We both love you."

"Thank you, Moony," Sirius answered, feeling tears falling from his eyes. He let himself be led back to his own room. Instead of depositing Sirius on the bed and leaving, Remus stayed, comforting his oldest friend in all the world as he wept in his arms. Nothing more was exchanged and for the first time in what seemed like forever, Sirius was able to sleep the rest of the night without transforming into Padfoot. It may have been a small victory, but for him it was a huge milestone, though he wasn't sure if Remus had stayed with him for the rest of the night. He found his wolfish friend in the kitchen and felt melancholy assail him again when he discovered that he would be alone for at least the next two weeks. Dumbledore was sending Remus on a mission and as if sensing the unhappiness, Remus pulled him into a hug, assuring him that he would return.

After Remus left, Sirius felt himself become a ghost again and began haunting several of the rooms in the house, caring little for anything. There had been no visitors for what remained of the day, which led to him invading his father's liquor cabinet again. He had hoped that alcohol would drown the terrible thoughts and memories in his head, but instead, it made them more poignant and thus, more tragic. At some point in the binge, the desire crept in to sleep and so he passed out on the couch. He woke up after a time, unsure what time it was, but knowing full well that it was night. Groaning because he felt miserable, he arose and performed the macabre ritual of visiting Regulus's bedroom door. Yet something felt different as stood there, though it was not quite identifiable as to why that was the case. The air seemed electric with optimism, a feeling that he hadn't felt in so long that he almost forgot what it felt like. And as he lay his hand on the doorknob, he took a deep breath and didn't breathe again until the gaping maw of the door had presented its secrets.


	3. A Roomful of Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius begins to explore Regulus's room. He realizes how difficult this is going to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a while to get this one close to how I want it to be, though I will probably adjust it. I wanted there to be a bond between Sirius and Regulus as there was between Severus and Lily, though they would obviously be very different. That was important to me and is relevant to what is to come.

It was strange to be standing there, half-expecting Regulus to wake up and scream at him to get out of his room. Sirius found that he would much rather have his brother's wrath than this hideous, deathly silence. In truth, it was far too similar to that of Godric's Hollow after--no, he stopped himself from thinking anymore about that. The Animagus could not bear for another moment of feeling that the very blade of grief plunged and twisting in his heart. There were vague outlines of several things in the room, reflecting an inner truth he didn't want to face at the moment by turning on the lights. It would be too real to know in truth that it had been over a decade since his brother had been in this room and even longer since he would traipse in to disturb Regulus's neat and orderly world. Light would be too cruel now in exposing that fact.

James had been a brother to him when his own had been stolen away by that cruel harpy of a mother. Sirius thought then if Regulus had missed him and those moments when they were considerably closer. He wondered if Regulus did find someone similar to what James had been to him. Part of him hoped that was the case, while the other raged at the thought of another death eater pushing him to his doom. How ironic to be longing to have Regulus here now when he avoided him in school. Sirius knew that he had been selfish, nursing his own wounds and neglecting (or ignoring) that his brother was collateral in his war against Walburga. Regulus, he supposed, had done what he had to in order to survive in the wreckage. After all, he had, though doubting its worth now when he barely had the strength to bear the weight in his own heart. 

Eventually, Sirius did close the door, but that simple movement seemed to sap all his energy. There he was, leaning against the door, shrouded in the darkness, not even bothering to turn the light on. After transforming into Padfoot and curling into the tightest ball he could, he fell into an uneasy sleep. Even though, the alcohol had numbed some of what he felt, it couldn't get rid of the images that kept flashing across his mind. It was the harsh morning light that eventually woke him, giving rise to what he had most feared. The room felt more like a museum than a bedroom. It was as if his parents were clinging to that belief that their youngest son would eventually return. When Sirius returned home, his own room had been almost emptied as if they wanted to have his entire existence eradicated. It was painful seeing in Regulus's room how little his parents regarded him.

He sat at the desk, wondering if he should go through his brother's things. By doing so, he felt that it was an admittance that his brother was truly gone. How strange, Sirius thought to himself. He remembered going into that room just to annoy him, not that it took much. Regulus was the opposite of his brother in almost every single way in terms of personality. Sirius relished getting him into as much as he could, since his brother was like almost all the other Blacks in his own family in how he carried himself. Bella was probably the most like himself, but because she had gone the proper route, she could get away with behaving how she wished. Sirius used to wonder if there wasn't a dark lord to contend with if his parents would have behaved differently towards him. Maybe his father would have, but his mother, he was certain, would be just as cruel to him as she always was. 

Eventually he turned to look at the bed and for a moment, he thought he saw Regulus there, quietly looking at him. Or maybe he had imagined it, wanting desperately to believe that he was there. But then he remembered lounging in that chair just before his first year at Hogwarts. Regulus was sitting cross-legged on the bed, trying to keep himself form crying. At the time, Sirius was looking forward to escaping Grimmauld Place and thought his brother was over-reacting. At some point, Regulus had calmed himself enough to look levelly at his brother.

 _"Siri?_ " For a reason, Sirius never quite figured out, Regulus looked incredibly nervous. _"Are we still going to be friends?"_

It was a funny question to ask, Sirius thought as he remembered it. They may have been at each other's throats half the time, but there were also moments of great tenderness. Sirius remembered that he had been bored after his mother had sent him to his room. After a few minutes of being in his, he had gone to see Regulus, who was reading a book on his bed. Initially, his brother thought that he was planning a prank, but did eventually relax.

 _"Of course we are. You're my brother,"_ Sirius had been annoyed for some reason and was flippant in answering.

_"But-."_

_"Come on, Reg. I promise, ok?"_

_"Ok."_

Sirius didn't remember what else they had talked about, but what he did recall was that it was one of the best moments they shared. It certainly was better than his send-off the following day when he got into an argument with his mother, which ended up with him receiving a howler very shortly after his arrival in Hogwarts. Not that he cared all that much, since he had met his best friends there. Sirius had prided himself on his loyalty to them, but on thinking of it now, felt guilty in how things ended up with his brother. At any point, he could've tried to reach out to him to fulfill that childish promise, but for some reason, Sirius clung to the belief that Regulus would eventually make his was to his side of things.

It was in these reminiscences that he saw a picture of the pair of them in one of the drawers that he opened. Of course, his mother would not suffer anything of her rebellious eldest son to be anywhere near her favored child. Yet, Sirius was still surprised to see it sitting atop several blank sheets of paper. He was finally able to figure out when the picture was taken. They had been wandering around Diagon Alley after Sirius had convinced him to sneak out of the house a few days before Walburga had taken him to get his school supplies. They had taken the picture at one of the shops and as he recalled, Regulus begged him to buy it for him. At the time, Sirius did it just to make sure that he didn't throw a tantrum. As he held the picture of their younger, smiling brothers in that picture, there was no real way to keep the tears from falling from his eyes. 

Regulus had asked, _"SIri, does it matter if I get sorted into Slytherin? I mean, we can still see each other, right?"_

Sirius had lied, not wanting to have his brother know, at least now, that things would be different. _"Of course not. We can get together for lunch and see each other to study."_

_"Do you mean that? I know you have your friends and I'm your kid brother."_

_"Of course I do,"_ Sirius had felt guilty as soon as the words left his word. His friends would be nice to Regulus simply because he was the younger brother, yet he was not going to get along with any of them. Sirius just assumed that his brother would share what went on with the Marauders with the rest of Slytherin. It had never occured to him that Regulus would have kept those secrets if he had been asked. 

And as Sirius closed the drawer and set the picture on top of that desk, he realized that going through this room would probably be even more of a challenge than he initially thought. With his head in his hands, he lamented the choices that he made that pushed Regulus so far away. Then it occurred to him that the monsters he was so afraid of prior to even entering the room weren't going to announce their arrival by a roar. They would emerge in the remembrance as Sirius would gaze at pictures, read letters, or handle any of the objects that he would eventually come across. And that was far more painful than having a direct blow.


	4. Remembrances in Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discovery, after several days, is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay. Been busy and....life happens. So this chapter may be a bit short, but there will be more interesting things afoot soon.

Nothing. That was what he found and what he felt. There should have been more, there had to be. Sirius had spent days trying to find something that had anything to do with his brother. It may have been Regulus's room, but it had felt so impersonal. At first he thought Walburga had come and threw away anything that she deemed inappropriate to her delicate sensibilities. But that picture of himself with Reggie was proof that had she been in here, it was not invasive. Perhaps, she had sat on the bed just as he was was doing now and wept for having lost not just one son, but both. For a moment, Sirius felt sympathy for his mother, but that, just like his current hopes, disappeared as quickly as they had appeared. 

He had been tired of his uselessness, of Snape criticizing him for.....just existing. All Sirius wanted was to have one aspect of his current life go right. HIs heart was empty of tears and all that remained was negativity. Having never really learned how to control his emotions, Sirius always had a difficult time in reigning himself in, even when he knew that would be the best course. He needed it now, but his frustration and anger were beginning to bubble over. And since he was near the bed, clasping his hands in the vain hope that maybe the reasonable part of himself would regain control, he felt that all too familiar pull of his emotions leading him astray. It was in moments like these that he missed the calming voice of Remus. To be fair, his presence may not have stopped the eruption, but it would at least have cooled his temper in a way that no one else ever could after the lava flowed. 

But that was not to be. The only thing that he thought would bring solace in that moment was the brutal promise at the bottom of a whisky bottle. With that thought in mind, Sirius got up and taking one last look around the room, angrily punched the wall right behind the bed. The regret was immediate, a river of expletives flowing from his lips as he rubbed his hand, hoping that he didn't break anything. Snape would never let him live it down if that were the case. He could see it now; the smug look on the bitter man's face, a papercut remark as he handed over the bone-mending potion. And for a reason he never understood, it was as if Dumbledore were forcing them to interact with one another, hoping perhaps there would be some sort of middle ground. The only way that would ever happen would be if there was a grave between them and Snape seemed to know it, too. 

Sirius still remembered the first thing that Snape had said to him when he walked through the door. He was drunk, trying to kill both boredom and his own tortured thoughts, while Snape came in to drop off potions supplies for the new headquarters. Sirius, in a bout of frustration, had thrown the empty bottle of firewhisky at the approaching wizard. The bottle had shattered after it hit the wall, its fragments catching the jaundiced light. Was it childish? Absolutely, but why did Snape have to appear just then? The dark wizard dropped off the supplies acting as if nothing happened, and when he saw the remains, cleaned everything up with an annoyed flick of his wrist. After casting a disparaging look at Sirius, said, "I see you're still not housebroken."

Before Sirius could say anything, Snape was gone. Even now, it almost threw him back into a furious temper as he thought about it, but he needed to collect himself now. There was a curious object that had been hidden behind the wall in his brother's room. Sirius was still craving a drink, but feared that leaving would make that discovery disappear. But at the same time, he was brimming with so many questions, but it was the last one that had reverberated in his mind, long after the others had taken flight: Would he be able to handle what was hidden? For several moments, he stood there and despite his desire to drink, he approached the wall and touched whatever the object was. As it turned out it felt fairly solid and not overly large as he ran his hand over the object. It felt the size of an envelope, but was certainly thicker. 

As he removed the object from its hiding place, Sirius remembered that he could've used his magic to remove it, but there was a certain catharsis in destroying the wall, tearing down veil of secrecy, as it were. Sirius could see Regulus watching him, rolling his eyes at his very muggle way of dealing with the situation. The Animagus stopped, struggling between laughing at the thought or crying. Apparently, the well that he thought empty had another source from which to draw from. Eventually returning to his labors after that brief reprieve to find the was even more damaged, but finally able to extricate the object, which he now recognized as a box. He tried to open it right then, but of course it would be locked. Regulus learned to lock up everything, possibly expecting Sirius to eventually find it or his paranoid mother to scour his room at some point.

Sirius should've remembered that fact in the few letters and notes that Regulus would send. What he saw with aching clarity now was how awful he was to his little brother. The letters were lost, he knew, and more than likely he had thrown them out with hardly a thought. But he could remember the near-perfect handwriting, the pleas to meet him, to reconnect, before they faded into nothingness. He remembered suddenly when Regulus understood that his older brother was not going to help him as they briefly held each other's eyes during lunch at Hogwarts. The look in those blue eyes, desperately trying to hide how much the rejection stung, while he turned his full focus back to James, his best friend. After that, there had been nothing more exchanged, other than a few cruel stinging words or the occasional hex.

And now, here Sirius was, staring at and running gentle hands over this box, hoping that this would bring his brother back. As he tried to figure out how to open it, that vision of his brother rolling his eyes disappeared, leaving him cruelly alone. Of course the object would be spelled shut and only a certain word would open it. Since this was something that belonged to Regulus, it would have to be a word that would have a very special meaning to him. Sirius racked his brain and found several things that may have been used when they both had been much closer. All those efforts showed was that not only had they failed and that gulf between them was farther than Sirius realized, but that now he was haunted with visions of what had been, what would never be again. So he lay on the bed, curled himself around the box, weeping, with the mantra: "Reggie, I'm so sorry" being uttered. Eventually, he would fall asleep with only nightmares to keep him company.


	5. History Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A touch of madness. A really bad idea.

The old Black Madness. Maybe the rumors about how inbred most wealthy families, especially those with such a mania for blood and magic purity, always having at least one raving lunatic was true. Long before his colorful Hogwarts career, he remembered his mother rapping his hands at each incorrect answer during those lessons on family history. Sometimes, it would be a gentle reprove, other times, she would strike him until his hands bled. It was always a mystery about what kind of mood she was in, but he learned early on that no matter how well-behaved he tried to be, there would always be an excuse for her to make him bleed, to make him suffer for some unknown sin. Then after those bouts of violence, she would always wrap him up in her arms and tell him how precious he was to her. For a long time, Sirius lived for those moments and often would force the violence, just so he could have her say how much she loved him. 

When Regulus was old enough to be brought into these lessons, Sirius immediately had felt replaced. Her focus was always on his baby brother and the treatment he received was entirely different from his own. Walburga treated Sirius as if he didn't exist and those moments of affections had basically dried up. Sirius remembered feeling so confused about why things had suddenly changed and despite how much he loved his brother, he felt resentment at the same time. If he couldn't have her love, then he would have her anger, so he kept escalating the situation. It wasn't until he met James and his family how abnormal his mother's treatment had been. Unfortunately, he didn't have the patience or the desire to spend anymore time than absolutely necessary in self-reflection or sharing anything from his unhappy childhood. There wasn't much of a point of telling anyone, only to have them tell him what he already knew. 

The Old Black Madness. The topic was an undertow in a perpetual state of glossing over; the subject that Sirius could always focus on when everyone else treated it like a footnote. It made him wonder if he in fact actually had been contaminated with it and that maybe he actually had deluded himself into believing that he was any different from everyone else, especially Bellatrix. She at least had the decency to embrace it, while he could not be sure of where the line was between madness and sanity. So the path that made the most sense was to always be against anything that his mother stood for, no matter the cost. James and Remus never knew that his choice to stand with them had little to do with what was morally right, but more to do with the fact that they actually cared for him for himself alone. He wasn't the disgraced Black heir; he was just Sirius, the wild child, willing to go to any length for attention.

But such luxuries of youth and friends weren't his now, not when confronted with the problem of his brother's box. The black box, which drew a morbid laugh, had symbolized everything that was wrong with his life now. His best friend was buried in a box, along with his beautiful wife who was in an identical one, while he wanted nothing more than to put Peter (alive and screaming, when the mood struck him) into another one. Remus was in a special box, too, because he couldn't bear the thought of reminiscing for too long because most of the time, it felt that he was the one that lowered James and Lily into their respective graves. And the worst thing about this box was while he knew what was in the other boxes, this one had too much of the unknown in it, too of a reminder that the only thing worse than painful memories was believing that he could just abandon Regulus without feeling the sting of remorse. And for long stretches of time (how much, he couldn't be sure), he would stare at it, hoping for some secret clue that would allow him to open it. 

The Old Black Madness. Each attempt to open it, whether by magical or muggle means, had failed, and he grew even more frustrated. And like a splinter in his mind, it tormented him, twisting itself even more firmly in his psyche. It was during one of his attempts that drunk, so very drunk, that he decided to set the thing on fire. Where the thought came from, he had no idea, but it seemed a valid option. It wasn't even about the contents anymore; it was just trying to open it by any means necessary. Unfortunately, drunk as he was, he wasn't thinking about he possibility of also setting the ancient wooden table on fire as well, not that it mattered that much to him. Yes, it was his father's, but the man had done little to protect him when Sirius very much needed it. So there was a strange satisfaction as he watched the table burn, the flames licking the wood, destroying what the artifacts that his parents had loved more than their own children.

What he didn't account for was the fact that Remus would be coming into that room. Sirius had forgotten that his last remaining friend was coming for a visit that day and he cursed himself for his forgetfulness. Remus doused the fire in water, while Sirius laughed like a madman, his voice dying just like the remaining flames. The table was damaged, but the box, remained relatively intact. Sirius immediately grabbed, then dropped it, because it was far too hot to handle. Before he could do anything else, Remus pushed him back into the chair. He was the most furious Sirius had ever seen him, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"The box--."

"I don't care about the box. You could've set the whole house on fire!" 

"Maybe that's what I was trying to do," Sirius tried to stand back up, but Remus pushed him back. "I hate it here."

Remus was clearly frustrated with this version of Sirius, because it was one he didn't understand. The man that had stood in his place was such a far cry from the one he knew and he could see the heartache on his friend's face. Remus had always worn his emotions on his sleeve, but very rarely acted on them. Now here was an instance of both anger and concern, an attempt to save Sirius from he own selfishness. "Why is that box so important to you that you would risk setting fire to everything?"

Remus picked it up, but Sirius, unable to bear it in anyone's hands but his own attempted to grab it. Of course, the werewolf, sober and concerned, pulled it away. Sirius screeched, "Give me the box, Moony!"

"Not until you tell me why it matters," Remus demanded, flinching ever so slightly at Sirius's tone. "Harry is going to be here tomorrow and right now, I don't want him anywhere near you."

"He's my godson, Moony," Sirius explained. "I would never--"

"And what if you did this while he was sleeping, Pads?" Remus asked, watching Sirius deflate and put his head in his hands, curling upon himself. 

"I never deserved it," Sirius said, not changing his posture. "I would do anything to keep Harry safe, but I don't deserve to be his godfather."

"Sirius," Remus said, placing a soothing hand upon his friend's shoulder. "I know you would, but you're the only family that he has left."

"And look at what I did to my own," Sirius said, rising unsteadily to his feet. "I disowned my own brother. How can I be sure that I won't do that to Harry? Tell me!"

"That's what this is about? Regulus?" Sirius dropped his head, unable to bear Remus's glance. "That's why this box matters to you, isn't it? It's Regulus's."

"Yes," Sirius whispered. "And I can't open it. I've been trying for...."

"How long have you been drinking?"

"I have no idea," Sirius answered. "I suppose since I found the box."

"Pads, I know that you would never do anything to hurt, Harry," Remus said, returning the box to Sirius. "But if he saw you like this...."

Sirius looked at the box, trying to not let himself be consumed by his present failure. It was all too much to bear at the moment, so he remained silent, afraid of dissolving into tears again. Remus continued, "Sirius, I want to help you, but I need to understand...." 

"Understand? What's there to understand, Moony?" Sirius asked. "I don't know who I am anymore and I don't want to. All I want to do is find my brother. This box is all I have left of him and I don't deserve even that. Not after all that I've done."

"Then let me at least try, Pads," Remus said. "I never knew that he met so much to you. Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because he didn't, Moony," Sirius said, eyes downcast. "Not for a long time, until I came back here. And that's something I will never forgive myself for. Here I was, a monster playing a hero...."

"You're not a monster, Sirius," Remus said, before adding. "You're a grimm, unless I'm mistaken."

Sirius chuckled, "But I....I don't know. Remus, this is not exactly going to be easy. But if you want to help, I guess you can."

"Sirius, I mean this, paw on heart, that nothing has ever been easy when it comes to you, in school or now," Remus laughed. "Now....if only we could get you and Severus to get along."

Sirius laughed in a way that he hadn't done in years. It wasn't lighthearted as it was in youth, because there was a touch of cynicism, too much had happened for such freshness. But the madness that had approached, that had lain its hand on him had been withdrawn, though he could still feel that it was still far too close. It was the laughter of a man trying to free himself from darkness that made the madness withdraw. And for the first time since handling the box, Sirius felt not light in spirit, but a certain shade of gray. In his heart, he knew that for all his many faults, that he didn't deserve such great affection, but he was so grateful for Remus in a way that he hadn't been in school. Afterwards, Sirius told him, "Moony, the shrieking sack...."

"I know, Pads. I know," Remus smiled, softly. "And I forgive you, even if others don't."

"I never appreciated you enough," Sirius said, more tired than drunk at the moment. "For that I'm sorry."

"How much have you had to drink?"

"Enough to make me honest."

Remus looked at Sirius curiously when he said that, that Sirius almost regretted having said what he did. "Sirius...why does it always feel that you're always holding back? It feels like you don't trust me."

"Do you remember when we discovered Moony? How scared you were that James and I would reject you?" When Sirius asked, Remus nodded, though he was confused by why that would even be brought up, "That's what it feels like for me when I think about Regulus. I hurt him and to have another chance to begin again. If you knew how awful I was, the lies I told him....He deserved so much more."

"Why don't you tell me about him?" Remus suggested, trying to encourage his unhappy friend to open up.

Sirius just looked at him, holding back tears, "I can't, because I never got to know him."

Remus, despite his attempts, couldn't get Sirius to say anything else for the rest of the night. Sirius was grateful that he wasn't pressed for anything more, but knew that Remus wasn't just going to let it lie. He was afraid of when that day came, he would lose his remaining friend. And just like with Lily, James, and Regulus, it would be his fault. Then he knew he would be lost to wonder the rest of his life alone, forever lamenting what he himself brought to ruin.


End file.
